


go and catch a falling star (sit there, watch it burn)

by aletterinthenameofsanity



Series: overcome in this war of hearts [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mind Control, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 10:15:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14518278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aletterinthenameofsanity/pseuds/aletterinthenameofsanity
Summary: It's almost easier not knowing, not realizing the exact reason why neither Thomas nor Roman can look each other in the eye in the weeks after their rescue from the Tower Rooms.Too bad they don't have that luxury.Strong LAMP family feels with Prinxiety/Logicality romantic focus.(Also, confrontation with Deceit in later chapters for those who requested it!)





	go and catch a falling star (sit there, watch it burn)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from John Donne and "First Burn" by Lin-Manuel Miranda.
> 
> Chapter titles will be from "Monster" from the Broadway musical Frozen.

Before the Roses, Roman never stuttered.

“How are you, Roman?” Thomas asks, and Roman won’t meet his eyes.

“J-just fine, Your Highness,” Roman says, and that’s that as Roman hurries off to the sparring grounds. Thomas is left falling behind, threatening to break apart with or without his closest friend.

\---

Roman doesn’t trust himself with a blade.

(For weeks, he turned it on the people he loved. He was the kind of monster that he spent his quests fighting. What might happen if he is given a weapon again?)

\---

They don't need Virgil’s magical abilities to awaken panic attacks anymore. They come naturally, in the night, in the nightmares that leave Roman and Thomas desperate for a Healer’s memory charm.

 

Roman wakes up to blood encrusted on his lips. He’d bitten down on his lips through the night to keep from screaming in anger, in terror.

(That was  _ his  _ body that was doing those things to Prince Thomas,  _ his  _ body that was commanding Rose-Fallen to their deaths,  _ his  _ body betraying the kingdom he loves so dearly.)

He sees Virgil and he can hardly bear himself, remembering what he did. After those first two kisses, Roman can’t bring himself to touch Virgil again. The memories of what happened in the tower rooms haunts his every interaction with his family, but it hits in a particular way with Virgil. Virgil, who pulled him out of the Roses’ trance when Prince Thomas couldn’t. Virgil, who he loves in a way far more desperate and dangerous than the fairy tale says he should.

 

Prince Thomas only screamed once in the five weeks that he was trapped in his rooms, and that was when the pain grew too intense for him to keep in the instinctual response.

Thomas never screamed for guards, never shouted for help or rescue. He knew that this wasn't Roman, but instead something possessing him. Whatever was in those Roses- it wasn’t Roman. It wasn’t Thomas’s Right Hand. 

Thomas knew that he personally wasn’t in danger of death. This twisted version of Roman didn’t desire Thomas’s death- no, it wanted his pain. It wanted his tears, his bruises, his groans. He won’t die under what is inflicted upon him, but if Thomas gets the rest of his guards up here, Roman’s body will. Thomas couldn’t let Roman die.

So Thomas took what agonies he was put through without protest, without complaint. He had faith that this violation, this torture and abuse, would end soon. He knew that Logan, Patton, and Virgil would come and save both him and Roman. He knew that they would both make it out.

So he didn’t scream. He just couldn’t.

(At night, he would curl up in his room and cry. He would sob, ignoring the pain in his wrists and legs and  _ everywhere.  _ He would weep for his kingdom and Roman and himself. He would cry and pray with whispered words, wishing he could have been stronger.)

Roman was in the room below, a blade in his hands and pain in his eyes. Thomas hadn’t seen the real Roman’s smile for weeks, only that dead-eyed smirk.

Thomas had never met the Warlock Roman occasionally spoke of, when he made use of words. He's pretty sure he never wants to. If that warlock caused this, if he took the loyal knight Thomas knew and turned him into this monster- well, then there would be hell to pay.

There was only one thing he could comfort himself with, and it was this: one person going to trial and then execution for treason, and it was not Roman. (It could never be.)

\---

They no longer eat dinner in the tower. Thomas can barely stand to sleep there, much less spend time with his family there. 

He stays in the Tower due to the safety and tradition inherent in the position, but every second he can he escapes to the lower levels. He goes to bed late and wakes up early, seeking to spend as little time as possible in his rooms.

They have family dinners in one of the side dining rooms, away from the horrors contained by the Tower. After a week, the awkwardness due to the location starts to dissipate, leaving them in a happier state closer to the easy camaraderie they used to enjoy.

It doesn’t take long for Logan to realize that Prince Thomas has developed both claustrophobia and a fear of heights- Thomas literally  _ can’t  _ stay in the tower. 

“This is frustrating,” Logan says to Patton one morning before they head off to their respective duties, “Prince Thomas obviously went through a traumatizing experience and needs to be removed from the tower in order to heal. However, that would contradict three centuries of tradition and the logical safety of the Right Hand protecting him-”

“Logan,” Patton says, and his uncharacteristically serious tone has Logan turning and raising an eyebrow in his direction. “Do you think Thomas-?” Patton swallows, trying to regain his thoughts. “What do you think happened in the tower?”

Logan swallows. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

Patton’s brow creases. “I thought you always say that knowledge is important, that it is  _ always  _ preferable to the alternative-”

“When the alternative is lies, of course,” Logan says, “But when it is ignorance...in this one case- what is the commoner saying- ignorance is bliss.” Silence sits heavy between them like Servant Talyn’s tobacco smoke. Logan sighs. “I don’t think I could handle knowing if my suspicions in regards to his Highness and Roman are true. They’re my family, Patton.”

Patton steps forward and wraps Logan in a tight hug. For once, Logan doesn’t protest, instead sinking into his lover’s arms.

\---

Their fragile peace finally shatters one night at dinner.

The four of them set down for dinner (Patton is late, as he nearly always is) and, for once, the mood is somewhat pleasant. Sure, Thomas and Roman won't quite meet each others’ eyes, but for the most part conversation is casual and light. 

Then Patton enters the room, and everything falls apart.

“Thomas,” Patton says, face pale, and the Prince looks up, fork halfway to his mouth.

“Yeah, Pat?”

“Why did one of the laundry servants just ask me if you were still having problems with bloodstains on your sheets?”

The world freezes as Roman and Thomas's eyes snap up to meet, color draining from their faces. Ice shoots down Virgil’s spine as his worst fears are confirmed. He'd wondered what had happened in the five weeks he, Logan, and Patton were on the run, made his worst guesses and prayed that none of them were close to true. Even the bruises on Prince Thomas when they first arrived, the way Roman and the Prince haven’t been able look at each other, and Roman’s nightmares weren’t enough to fully convince him of his fears.

Roman stands abruptly, silverware clattering to the table with an awful cacophony. The look on his face is one that is sickeningly familiar to Virgil: one of absolute disgust and self-loathing. “I’m resigning as your Right Hand effective immediately, Your Highness,” he says, “And leaving the castle. I cannot serve you anymore.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Prince Thomas says in a tone that mirrors Logan’s at his most matter-of-fact. Virgil tears his eyes away from Roman and look to the Prince- Prince Thomas has finally let that bite of food reach his lips, and he seems to be in a much more nonchalant mood than Roman is in. That one moment of terror is far gone from Thomas’s face.

“Yes I will,” Roman says, but his voice is shaking. “Right Hands have the freedom to resign if they feel as if they will provide inadequate service to the protection of the crown.”

“You’re doing just fine,” Thomas says, but his voice is trembling just a little.

Roman shakes his head. “I failed to protect you from the Roses, Your Highness. I was derelict in my duties and I will no longer pretend that I am the best choice for the job.”

“You’re my finest knight,” Thomas says, “You are the person I trust most to this position.”

“I let a warlock take advantage of my knowledge of the castle and of you,” Roman says, “I let my own pride and ambition get the best of me. I-”

As Virgil watches, something in Roman breaks. His previously contained frustration explodes.

“You shouldn't be able to  _ look  _ at me, Your Highness!” Roman shouts, on the verge of tears, and Virgil realizes that his carefully built reasons are falling apart around him. Now, the truth is coming out, forced out by emotion and guilt. “ _ I  _ did that to you! My body,  _ me _ !”

“No, that was the Roses and that warlock-” Prince Thomas begins to argue, but Roman shakes his head furiously.

Roman’s voice breaks in a wretched sob. “Thomas, I  _ raped  _ you!”

No one gasps. No one shouts. As Virgil looks to Logan and Patton, he doesn’t see surprise or disgust on their faces. He sees tears on Patton’s cheeks and Logan’s clenched jaw. Both of them evidently came to the same conclusion he did, and it’s breaking their hearts just like his.

“No, you didn’t,” Prince Thomas says, and sets down his silverware. “Like I said, that was those goddamn roses.” His voice finally breaks its carefully neutral tone, turning into frustration. “It was that warlock and the curse he put on you, Roman, not you.  _ Never  _ you. Your body wasn’t your own. Your mind wasn’t your own.” He stands up and Roman flinches.

“I’m sorry, Prince Thomas,” he says, his voice a sob. “I-I can’t. I can’t know that my body was forced on you, that I caused you such intimate harm. I can’t know that my body was used to inflict such a heinous act on my Prince and brother.”

And, for the first time in his life, he turns and runs.

 


End file.
